


backless dress and some beat up sneaks (this woman is my destiny)

by galactic_chiroptera



Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Compliation, F/M, Femdom, Ficlets, Figging, Fluff, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PWP, Vignettes, dom!vee, implied omegaverse, mentions of nipple clamps, sub!darwin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:37:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5663206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galactic_chiroptera/pseuds/galactic_chiroptera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a series of short glimpses into the lives of Vee and Darwin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. alpha!verse

**Author's Note:**

> kk so y'all recieved Avyn pretty well so meet another handful of characters

"Vee- what are you even-?"  
  
"Shhh." There's the hint of a laugh in her voice, and the usual fondness as she shifts closer to him, biting marks just below his collarbone. "It'll make sense later. Go to sleep, baby."  
  
At the time, he doesn't think much of it. He figures it's a alpha thing, something about marking what's theirs, and is quickly lulled back into sleep's embrace.  
  
It's not until the next morning, when he wakes with her curled into his side, arms wrapped tightly around his torso and one leg hooked over his, that he sees what she's done. The marks have had the night to turn mottled red-purple and raise slightly, like particularly bad bruises but infinitely more appealing.  
  
There, just below his collarbone and the cut of his breastbone, is a heart. It's on the opposite side of his actual beating one, but it's definitely a heart. He stares at it for a few moments, half-asleep and still trying to figure out if he's not actually dreaming.  
  
"You like it?"  
  
He jumps at the sound of her voice, rough and sleepy, but when he looks at her she's got a soft smile on her face, chin on his shoulder, peering at him inquisitively.  
  
As a response, he leans down and kisses her gently, a hello-and-good-morning-I-love-it, and settles back down beside her, wrapping an arm around her and settling back into sleep in the soft light of dawn.


	2. dom!verse

Over the course of their relationship, and in it the more... _intense_ side of it, Veronica has shed light on quite a few new subjects, both sexual and otherwise.

But _this,_  by far, takes the fucking cake. Along with the pie, the donuts, and the whole damn bakery. 

"... Ginger." 

Veronica, eyes wide and innocent in the way that they usually are when she's explaining _new things_  to him, just watches him imploringly. "Yeah. I've heard... Positive things about it." She offers a wink, suddenly. "Really positive things."

"I'm sure you have." Darwin just looks at her, understandably, he thinks, wary. "It's just... Ginger? Really?" He scrubs a hand over his face. It's not that he's opposed- _being in a healthy BDSM relationship requires communication and openmindedness to new things,_  the domme club owner's voice reminds him cheerfully- not by a long shot, but shoving a popular Thai garnish up his ass is a bit of a lot to take in. 

"Come on," Veronica implores, in a voice that tells him that if he were truly adamant about being opposed to this she'd let up. "You weren't even this hesitant about sounding. And that's like... A stretch even for us." She sniggers at her own joke, and Darwin can't help a snort as he rolls his eyes. 

 "Okay," he finally concedes, squeezing her hand. "We can try it. I guess."

She smiles at him then, a wide, brilliant thing, and he can't help but lean in and kiss her. 

  

"Ready?" Veronica murmurs against the crook of his neck, grinning at his shiver as her breath fans over his over-sensitive skin. He nods, biting down harder on the ball gag, gripping the small bell tied to the bedframe. "Remember, babe, just ring that if you want me to stop, okay?" she adds, breaking character for a split second. He makes an affirmative noise, and she bites down on his shoulder lightly. "Good boy. Now don't move." 

She moves back then, slowly, running her nails down his back and leaving red lines that fade after a moment. He shudders, resisting the urge to arch against the bed, to get some sort of relief.  Feeling a kiss pressed against the base of his spine just makes him want to press closer, but the bite of the leather cuffs at his wrists reminds him that that's not an option. 

Veronica sits back on her heels, suppressing a snicker as the strap-on bobs rather hilariously at her hips. When they weren't being used, these things looked so ridiculous, she muses as she dips her hand into the bowl of ice-cold water at her side and fishes out the root. 

It's been peeled and carved by hand for this very reason, flared at the bottom like a plug, with a chain she'd tied around the base as a safety precaution. In front of her Darwin shakes in anticipation, and she smirks a little. 

Without any warning she flicks her wrist, shaking the water off it, and sits forward again, slipping it into him easily. 

It doesn't seem like anything special, Darwin thinks, if a little cold and tingly. 

At least, until the burning begins. 

He gasps around the gag and feels her hand splayed across his back gently, giving him permission to move. Bowing downwards, the tip of his length brushes across the mattress and he keens. It reminds him of too-caffeinated soda, fizzy and bordering on painful, but it's pressing just right so that the pleasure knocks out the pain and leaves a hot, fizzy warmth that seems to spread from the point of origin to the tips of his extremities. 

Veronica sees the moment the ginger kicks in clearly. Darwin arches, giving a whimper she knows he'll deny until he's blue in the face. There's a muffled desperate cry, and she watches his hands closely. He has a white-knuckled grip on the bars of the bedframe, but not once does he reach for the bell that serves as their safeword.  

"Like that, pet?" she murmurs, careful not to brush against his length as she reaches around to tug the chain connecting his nipples. He bucks, then nods jerkily. "Good." With her other hand she grips the base of the root and twists it. 

With a gasp, an aborted thrust, and a sound akin to a scream as the heat flares to every nerve ending, he comes on the sheets below, back bowed and every muscle locked into place. His vision goes white, gasping around the gag, which he's sure is going to have even more bite marks when they take it out. 

She reaches down to work him through it, and once he whines with the aftershocks, she eases the ginger out, dropping it in the trash at the foot of the bed. Unbuckling the strap on, she dumps it on the mattress and tosses it aside. Next goes the gag and cuffs, dumped off the edge of the bed carelessly. They'll be cleaned later. 

"You good?" she murmurs against his ear, and receives a lazy, tired nod in reply. He rolls over, just enough for her to undo the nipple clamps, and flops against her.  

"That was... an experience," he manages, and she laughs.  

"A good one?" she answers, looping an arm around him and pressing a kiss against his cheek. He just hums an affirmative, nuzzling into her side. It's moments before she hears him snoring quietly, and chuckles, curling into him.


End file.
